Monthly Archives: January 2005

Second person

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You couldn’t think of anything to write so you decided to write an entry in the second person. Immediately after you started you realised that it sounds really freaky, like you’re lecturing people. It’s also a bit like that Henry Rollins spoken word piece, “I know you” that you used to listen to a lot when you were 18.

It also sounds like those people who are interviewed about something that they feel a bit nervous talking about, so they shift into the second person. So instead of saying, “I didn’t really know what to do when the tsunami hit, so I just ran as fast as I could and prayed that my kids were ok,” they say, “You didn’t really know what to do when the tsunami hit, so you just ran as fast as you could and prayed that your kids were ok.” Like it’s a universal experience that everyone has.

You’ve also started wearing contact lenses again. You bought a couple of boxes of daily disposable lenses last year, but only used a couple of pairs. But now that the weather is so hot, hot, hot and humid, you’ve noticed that it’s rather uncomfortable having your spectacles sliding down your face, lubricated with sweat, sun screen and face oil. Yuck. Oh, and you’ve always felt not-quite-pretty when you wear glasses and blame Dorothy Parker for that.

But you’ve noticed that things are different without glasses. As well as everything being all clear and in focus (and not just the arbitrary area where the lenses sit), people have been looking at you differently. Your face looks bare, like when a guy shaves off his beard. It’s different and you’ve noticed people doing that gaze thing where they take a long look to check out what’s changed. You figure this must be what it’s like to be really famous or something.

You feel like you need to wear an accessory to replace the presence of your spectacles, but as Christine Rankin-style earrings are out of the question (though, oddly enough, not strictly out of fashion at the moment), you’re not really sure what do. If only girls could cultivate facial hair. A goatee might be fun.

You’ve decided that while this second-person thing is rather enjoyable to write, you wouldn’t want to write like this forever. Interestingly it’s easy to feel very distant from the subject matter when you’re not directly identifying yourself as part of it. You’ll have to do a third-person entry some other day.

Sand, shoes

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I spent most of yesterday trying to figure out if I wanted to go to the Big Day Out. There were a few moments where I almost went off and bought a ticket, but in the end I decided to leave it until today.

And today I decided not to go. I was worried that maybe I was getting olde and didn’t want to go because I didn’t want to have to deal with all the 15-year-old punk-arses, but then I realised that I’ve not gone to the BDO before and I’ve been dealing with 15-year-old punk-arses ever since the first BDO.

It came down to the basic fact that there weren’t enough bands performing this year that I really wanted to see, so it wasn’t worth the $100+ ticket to see a bunch of bands I’m not really into. And I also realised that wanting to see the Beastie Boys because I was really into them when I was 12 (Oh, how I was hot for Ad Rock. Oh, how I lovingly fondled the LP of “Licensed to Ill” in a local record store.), is not quite the best reason.

But I had taken today off work in case of the BDO, so I decided to go to the beach. The nearest nice beachy place to me is Mission Bay. I bussed into town and walked along Tamaki Drive, forgetting that it’s a good 6km along there. But it was a lovely day and the walk didn’t feel like 6km.

You know what happened at Mission Bay? Kids played in the fountain, people sunbathed on the beach, friends threw frisbees, dogs rolled in the grass, mothers wiped up melting ice cream and pigeons battled it out with sparrows for crumbs.

I was going to get the bus back to the city, but I’d just had an ice cream extravaganza and was all hyped up on its ice creamularity, so I decided to go for a walk up to Bastion Point. But once I got back to Tamaki Drive, I just kept on walking and didn’t stop until I was back in the city. Oh, so that’s 12km in a day. Behold my stamina!

Fool stop,

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Sometimes it’s fun to have a laugh at strange use of punctuation. “Ha ha,” we say, clutching our copies of Eats, Shoots, and Leaves close to our bosoms. “Look at how they’ve written it’s instead of its!”

But other times there’s use of punctuation that’s so outré that whoever concocted it was surely being more punkarse than dumbarse.

I present to you the blackboard outside Molten restaurant:

Behold!

  • The missing closing quote mark.
  • The use of the @ symbol to represent the word at.
  • The scare quotes around valentine.
  • The comma after valentine.
  • The quotes around Molten.
  • The use of a comma to end the sentence.

Eight pieces of punctuation in a sentence that only needs one full-stop. Yes, this truly puts the punk in punctuation.

Roll on two o’clock

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I’m not sure exactly what I was doing at 1.59pm on Sunday, but I do know that I was sitting in a cinema in Village Queen Street, watching “Kinsey”. It’s quite a good film, but that’s not the point. The point is that I was not actively partaking in the minute of silence.

After the movie I went for a walk down to the waterfront. I saw a cafe with this written on its blackboard sign outside:

Please join us as we participate in a 1 minute silence at 1.59 in memory of the victims of the Boxing Day tsunami. Thanxs.

What would that have been like? Maybe you’d be sitting there with your cappuccino and eggs Benedict when the head barista would solemnly announce, “We are now going to have a one-minute silence in memory of the Boxing Day tsunami victims. Thanxs.”

Then everything would go quiet, except there’d be kitchen noises because table three ordered pancakes and they’re still cooking. You’d sit at your table looking at your coffee, wondering if drinking it would still be considered silence, or if it would be ok to take a sip.

Some 12 year-old punkarses would walk past trying to sound like adult black American gangstas, which would make at least one person start to giggle.

Then someone would walk in, unaware that the minute of silence was being observed, and would be trying to order an espresso and wondering why everyone was really really quiet.

And finally the minute, which by now would feel like five minutes, would be up and the clicking, grinding and sucking noises of the old espresso machine would again fill the air.

Everyone would breathe one of those collective sighs of relief and be glad that the gruelling minute was up, and would forget about the tsunami again.

Chew it up

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At last! Apple has made an iPod small enough that a lady could insert it into her vagina if she so desired(1). Not that I recommend doing such a thing – a handbag would surely be a better portable storage facility – but it’s nice to know that should such a hiding place be required, the iPod Shuffle could happily pop in for a visit.

Apple, however, are choosing their own way of indication how small the new iPod is. They’re comparing it to a packet of chewing gum and show the Shuffle hanging out next to a packet of Trident. In fact, they say it’s “Smaller than a pack of gum and much more fun.”

But on the official website I also note a little number at the end of that slogan indicating a footnote. Scrolling down reveals the following warning: “Do not eat iPod shuffle.”

Yes, it’s funny to chuckle at the litigiousness of America and the theoretical need for such warning, but really, is anyone going to fork out US$100 for an iPod shuffle and then attempt to eat it?

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1. Do not pleasure thyself with iPod shuffle.